I don’t believe it. Just when I thought I was actually going to make the half marathon, just when I’d recovered from the fractured toe and muckle blisters and got back into training, what happens? Went and twisted my ankle, didn’t I. And you know what’s worse? It’s on the same damn foot where said fracture and blisters occurred.
Yesterday was unseasonably gorgeous so I spent all day counting down the hours until I was set free and the second I got home I jumped into my running togs and embarked on a 12.5km jaunt. The route was perfect for the weather: up Queen’s Drive, down through Duddingston Village, through Portobello and past the old flat, along the seafront and through Leith Links before heading up Easter Road and back home. Plenty scenery to break up the traffic-choked roads which, to be fair, afford a great opportunity for a dose of schadenfreude as you giggle at the frustrated drivers in their steel coffins, most of whom probably actually live within easy running distance of their offices anyway.
The joke was ultimately on me though.
On the last leg of the run, just as I was climbing Easter Road, I started to notice a little twinge in my left ankle. Initially it was just a minor pain and I put it down to fatigue but by the time I’d been back home for half an hour it was starting to get seriously painful. Come this morning and it hurt to put any weight on it at all so I’m now sitting at my desk at work with my foot up on another chair, full of ibuprofen and waiting for lunchtime so I can get to Boot’s for some kind of ankle support.
Since it happened I’ve been wracking my brain to figure out how I did it. There was no obvious point where I put any excessive force on it so I’m assuming it was one of the countless occasions when I stepped from pavement to road and vice versa in order to avoid other pedestrians. Perhaps the fact that I’d been out of action for a while had weakened the ligaments sufficiently that such a minor incident could affect them quite seriously.
Anyway, it looks like I’m once again out of the running for the half marathon. Barring a miracle, or a bionic replacement, it’ll likely not have healed in time for the race in 16 days. Well, it may have healed but not sufficiently that I wouldn’t end up ruining it again.
Please send any packages of sympathy to the usual address 😦